


Rate of Exchange

by stateofintegrity



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:15:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25993519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stateofintegrity/pseuds/stateofintegrity
Summary: Charles has a fraught relationship with money.
Relationships: Maxwell Klinger/Charles Emerson Winchester III
Comments: 7
Kudos: 7





	Rate of Exchange

Army scrip always felt, to Corporal Maxwell Q. Klinger, like Monopoly money. It was too small for one thing and it came in colors too garish even for his fashion creations: bright red or bright blue. For this reason, the “tip” he received from the high class Major didn’t set off any alarm bells… at first. 

And, hey, it did allow him to see the man (so closed off so much of the time) actually crack a smile. After that, Klinger took to dropping Charles’ mail off first. It wasn’t a difficult change to make for him - and if the Major was in a generous mood he not only tipped in cash money, he  _ gave  _ tips on his earrings or his shoes. Once he even presented him with buttons from a shirt he had been unable to rescue (blood, meet silk). Klinger had happily pocketed the discs; new material to work with  _ always _ improved his day. 

On another day, the aristocratic surgeon asked Klinger to grab food for him (he had such a short time in between deluges). Klinger was happy to help (like Mulcahy, he genuinely liked to be needed) and smiled a greeting when Winchester sat down beside him. “I did my best with what looked edible,” he said, reading the exhaustion in the man’s face. “Hard one today, huh?”

“Several hard ones. A good deal of death.”

Klinger wished he had some way to help. Who was he to give advice to a Harvard grad? He just did his best to distract Charles through lunch, telling outrageous stories, hoping the tension would leave his shoulders a little. When Charles had gone, Klinger found his latest tip - a tin of pearl onions - beside him.  _ You’re being ridiculous, Major,  _ he thought with a smile, but figured - hey, Charles could afford it. 

Weeks later, Klinger was clued in to how far the Major’s odd sense of manners might be stretched, when he led him, stumbling, half asleep, toward the Swamp. “It’ll be alright, Major,” Klinger assured him. “Radar says it’s done for a coupla days. You just sleep. I’ll even bring you breakfast in the morning.” 

“I would much prefer a midnight snack,” came the rejoinder. And then Klinger was made the flabbergasted recipient of a doozy of a first kiss. 

As he’d been the one to bestow it, Winchester was the one to break the kiss, drawing back with a satisfied smile. “Goodnight, Max,” he said then and went off to bed. 

Stunned, Klinger discovered that he was holding a $5 bill. 

After that, it was a rare occasion that Charles didn’t “purchase” the taste of his mouth. Klinger didn’t want the money (he kept it locked in a baklava tin in his foot locker, untouched except for that emergency with his ma) but he had no idea how to end the transactional nature of their encounters… especially since, lately, the size of his tips had increased. 

The Swamp Rats had taken to playing volleyball with the nurses in the evenings, which left the Swamp to Charles, his records, and a confused Corporal who was on the receiving end of a very drawn out,  _ deep  _ kiss, body pressed down into rumpled coverlets that smelled like Charles. Breathless, Maxwell tried not to moan as hungry hands ran over his body, collarbone to hip, tracing an inner thigh. Then Charles sat up as he always did, composed as ever, and bid him goodnight  _ as if his talented tongue had not just been inside of his mouth!  _

“I, uh, I’ll go if you want,” Klinger said, breaking the pattern that had dictated their encounters up to this point. “But why don’t you come with me, Major? I have my own tent.” 

Charles face was still, his eyes cold. “There are some things for which I will not barter, Maxwell.”

That imperious tone intimidated the younger man but he held the course. “Come on, Major. I’ve gone along with you. Just have a cup of tea with me.” 

Considering that he’d been taking comfort in the young man’s body like a bee taking up pollen from a trumpet vine, Charles didn’t really see a way to refuse. “Alright.” 

Inside, Klinger kept his word, making tea while Charles glanced around and took in the layers and flounces and shades of his finery. Once the Major had been served, Max sat across from him with a hand on his knee. “I want to talk to you, sir. About us.”

Charles looked terrified. He should have known, he thought, that it was too good to last… but he had thought Klinger would just refuse his kisses when he tired of him. “Yes?”  _ Darling?  _ “What do you wish to say?” 

“I, uh, I guess I just wanna know where we’re going. And why you keep kissing me close to losing it… then leaving. Am I doing something wrong? ‘Cause I’d really like you to stay.” 

“You mean, of course, that you would like the fee that would result?” 

It was at that moment that Klinger realized that they weren’t just on different pages; they were reading out of two different volumes. Standing, he opened the footlocker and rummaged out the bright red tin. “Major, do you really think I’d let somebody kiss me for cash? Didn’t you notice I was kissing you back!?” He handed back the precise pile of military scrip. “It’s all there. You can count it.” 

“I, I - Max, I meant this to be yours.”

“ _ I  _ want to be yours. And your money doesn’t enter into it. Not for me. So you wanna tell me why you thought you had to buy your way into my bed?”

This won him an indignant look. “I never would have done that to you - offered you money in exchange for… that. I would never cheapen you that way.” 

“But everything up to that? Nifty loophole, Major.”

Charles blushed. “I… I know I cannot be desirable to someone as young and lovely as you. The only way I experience touch here is if a dying man grips my wrist… I just… I wanted to hold onto your beauty in hopes that it could help me feel alive again. If it helps you to think better of me at all, I will say that it was more than worth every penny.” 

Max sat his tea aside and took the cup out of Charles’ hands too, coming to stand in the circle of his arms, chin on his shoulder. “Major… who taught you something so awful about you? Lots of people would love to have you touch them.” 

Charles shook his head, a litany of old, hurtful words bubbling up to drown his heart in painful tides. “Please, Max. Pity from you will quite unravel me. It is best if I go.” 

Klinger held on tighter. “It isn’t pity. And I didn’t kiss you for cash. I kissed you because I wanted to. Just a minute ago, you said you knew I couldn’t want you. Major, baby, why didn’t you just  _ ask _ !?” 

“I thought the answer was obvious. No one has ever wanted me for myself. For the money? Yes. I went with the offering which I believed would give me access to your soft skin.” 

“Lucky for you, I’m all about ripping out crooked stitches and trying again. So, here’s what we’re going to do. You’re gonna lay down in that cot with me and ask me proper, like you shoulda that first night you kissed me.”

Charles eyes, so filled with pain for much of their conversation, now shined with hope. “And what are you going to do?” 

“Ask me and find out.” 

Being snuggled up together was the best thing Charles had ever felt. Even during the more intense of their kisses, he’d kept a careful rein on himself, ready to leap up whenever he could no longer contain his desires. Klinger joined their hands. “Go ahead, Charles. I think there was something you wanted to say to me.” 

“Max…” he swallowed hard, frightened. “Max, I… No one has ever been in love with me, but you had my heart from the very first. And if you would grant me the privilege of staying by your side, I will do all that I can to care for you and protect you in this awful place and win you for my own.” 

Klinger smiled radiantly at him -  _ for him _ . “That was almost as good as a wedding vow.”

Charles felt his answering smile trembling on his face. “I will gladly give you one of those as well, when the time comes.” 

“I’ll hold you to it.” He tugged at the pull cord and made the tent go dark. “But for right now, I’d like to just hold onto you and tell you all the great things about you.” He leaned up to catch his mouth. “And you know the best part?”

“What’s that, Maxwell?”

“I won’t charge you a penny for my thoughts!” 

End! 

  
  
  



End file.
